


Destination Wedding

by irislim



Category: Veronica Mars (TV), Veronica Mars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Romance, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-11
Updated: 2016-02-27
Packaged: 2018-05-01 02:46:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 18,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5189216
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/irislim/pseuds/irislim
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not exactly by choice that Veronica attends her ex-boyfriend's weekend wedding all by herself. But when another ex-boyfriend shows up equally alone, the only thing keeping them from each other is - well, each other. But that should be easy, right? An AU LoVe story set between the series and movie.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Get It Out of the Way

**Author's Note:**

> I promise fully that I will not abandon either of my WIP's. I just needed two different stories to keep me sane and balanced on the fluff/angst scale.
> 
> Heartfelt thanks to irma66 for her devoted patience and keen eyes.

_"It's as if you're in love with someone who doesn't exist! No, wait - what I mean is - you don't really know how to love, Veronica. You just use people. But heaven forbid if any of us unfortunate lovers decide to make you feel even for a little bit that we need you. Cuz the moment we do, you run. No one is perfect, Veronica, and it's about time you accept that."_

She sighed heavily against the car window, her breath forming a tentative blur against the autumn-cooled pane. The taxi jostled without warning, and her hands jumped to grip the seat tighter.

"Hey!"

"Sorry, ma'am." The driver's grunt didn't even sound the least bit apologetic.

She rolled her eyes and nestled back against the tattered leather. When the road turned smooth again over the bend, she let the tip of her tongue roam over her teeth in a state of subtle agitation.

_"Cuz the moment we do, you run."_

She closed her eyes for a handful of seconds. Was that really just last week?

_"But I want this to work" - she had protested. But, of course, He didn't believe her. "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, Veronica?"_

His answer had struck her as unusually cruel, especially coming from Mr. Nicest-boyfriend-she's-ever-had. In fact, 'niceness' was probably the only reason she'd even tried dating him again - for all of two months. She shook her head slightly as his accusatory question rattled her mind like a stubborn pinball gone wild. She had been trying to patch things up! And he had essentially called her a liar.

_But am I a liar?_

She bit her lip to hold back another sigh. Had she really wanted it to work?

Veronica grunted as the next unwarranted bump on the road almost sent her scalp to the dirty car ceiling. She held on tighter.

_But nothing really matters now, does it?_

She scowled at the approaching frontage of the bed and breakfast inn she was to call home for the next three days. Because, of course, it had to be perfectly manicured, pristinely white, and obscenely innocent.

"You gettin' out, ma'am?"

Resigning herself to the inevitable, she handed over the cash and slid out with her backpack. That's right - two years into preening dorm roommates, and she was still not a girly-girl. She smirked. The hitchhiker look always did go better with her boots anyway.

_"You don't really know how to love, Veronica."_

She swallowed a scoff as her feet forced themselves forward on the gravel driveway.

_It really doesn't matter now, does it?_

Because marching on with her signature swagger, Veronica Mars wasn't exactly heartbroken. Leo was right - she hadn't loved him.

But Veronica Mars was definitely annoyed - very annoyed.

She stopped short of the front door, forcefully refusing the urge to bang her forehead against the picture-perfect stained glass. She huffed against her bangs.

_Because if only Mister Nice Cop had delayed his personal epiphany for a mere two weeks..._

Veronica grunted.

_Then I wouldn't have to come to this stupid wedding alone._

* * *

"Two keys, ma'am?"

_Is everyone in on this pity party?_

"One," she spat, barely kind. The gangly teenager in the all-too-loose reception uniform tossed her the clunky metal key. She lifted it with open distaste.

_Who even uses these anymore?_

For a quick moment, her mind wandered to the sleek hotel room card keys in her past - particularly one with a bright, red bow.

"Ve-ve-veronica!"

She whipped around with a smile.  _This_  was someone she's happy to see.

"And how is my astronomically hot software engineer doing?" They hugged out their welcome.

"Stellar." Mac smiled, uncharacteristically demure. "Dick's unpacking. So I get to be on the welcome wagon."

Veronica laughed at the wink sent her way. After the initial discomfort at Mac's choice of partner wore off, she's actually come to appreciate her newer, more confident best girl friend.

"Gonna waste away the afternoon on oddball wedding guests?"

"Oh, I wish. Gotta head up soon to make sure I don't end up fishing my panties out of his drawers by Sunday."

Veronica winced. "So long, single life, huh?"

Mac smiled. "It's not that bad."

"Yeah, sure, do make me feel better about it."

"Come on, Veronica, you were always the one with a line of suitors throwing their gauntlets down at each other."

"Oh spare me the history."

 _Eye rolls never get old_.

"What? No history, no wedding. You know that."

Veronica sighed. "It's not like I  _intentionally_  introduced them."

"Right, because if Parker hadn't tagged along to our group date, she wouldn't have  _really_  gotten to know Piz the very night you decided to dump him."

Her small hands instantly flew over Mac's lips. She scanned the small living-room-turned-lobby, her whisper hoarse. "I don't think that's polite, Mac."

The brunette stepped back with an easy shrug. "What? Parker's made no secret of the fact that she likes to date your ex's. In her own words, 'At least this one actually liked me better.'"

They both hushed for a second at the implication in those words.

Veronica sighed - again. "You sure she's okay?"

"Would she have invited you to her wedding if she weren't?"

She shuffled, uncomfortable. "I'm not gonna pretend this is even remotely normal."

"Good - because you suck at normal."

"Mac!"

"It's true!"

"So I'm abnormal now?" She crossed her arms.

"Well, you don't seem to be conforming to society's general expectations."

"Because I show up to my college boyfriend's wedding by myself when the bride is someone else?"

"As if that ever really bothered you."

"Exactly! Why is it  _my_ fault for showing up alone? Can a woman  _not_  show up by her lonesome in this day and age?"

"I never said - "

"So why blame me for doing the most generous thing I could?"

"It's not - "

"It's not  _my_ fault that society thinks people should show up in pairs at a wedding."

"Uhm, Veronica - " Mac's eyebrows began to rise.

"If this scenario causes any awkwardness at all, the fault lies solely on the person in charge of that preposterous guest list."

"Vee - "

"I mean - seriously." Her arms flew up in grandiose indignation. Mac's eyebrows jumped even higher. "Who even invites their college ex-significant other to the wedding where one marries said significant other's former love rival?"

And if she had only heeded the wisdom of Mac's eyebrows, she wouldn't have been caught as much by surprise.

"Piz and Parker, apparently." Logan's voice stated matter-of-factly behind her.

_And this, Veronica Mars, is why people don't attend a wedding alone._

* * *

"Well, aren't your observational skills divine?" She attempted, voice barely stable, as she whipped around on her heels.

_Thank God for high-heeled boots._

She smiled as calm a smile as she could muster. "Classy, aren't we?"

_No, I am not talking about the smooth black fabric adorning your very muscled form right now._

"Classy, no. Perfect eye candy, yes." His voice jolted her back to reality. She looked up.

"Huh?"

He smirked, his eyes - his perfect brown eyes - glistening with the cocky assurance that she had been openly drooling over his body. "Surprised at the view?"

Veronica grunted. With a shake of her head, she wrapped her arms across her chest, her wits around the present. "I'm more surprised at the lack of  _arm candy_ , mister."

He stepped closer - too close. "Ah, Veronica Mars, still think that of me?"

_No, my heart rate is not speeding up at your inappropriate proximity and verbal caressing of my name._

She smirked. "Would I be wrong?"

"Ah, because you never are." He grinned, lop-sided.

"Finally converted, huh?"

"Oh yes, long-standing member of Ares International here."

"I'm a company now?"

"More like a religion."

"Religion."

"Or" - he leaned down, hovering two mere inches away - "an addiction."

She breathed in, very slowly. "Mars Anonymous a regular thing now?"

"Tried it." He didn't move away. "Never worked."

"You're supposed to actually show up for these things, you know?"

"Perfect attendance." He finally pulled back. She exhaled. "But their exercises don't tend to work."

"Yeah?" She scrambled. "Didn't like that ten-minute handstand?"

"Well, there was this thing about using placebos to replace the original. But judging from past events, that doesn't go over so well."

_Placebos? Of me?_

She fought to keep her breathing still. "As if you'd ever  _listen_ to someone."

"You'd be surprised." He plugged a hand in a pocket. "I can be an excellent listener when no one is screaming in my room."

A wave of defensiveness quenched the spark of compassion. "I wasn't a screamer, Logan."

"Ah, she confesses." He leaned to the side, smirk intact. "Did I ever say it was you?"

The sheer irritation she felt made her wonder why she had ever thought she loved him.

_Loved him, Veronica?_

"Fine." She shook her head and straightened up. She extended a hand cordially. "Maybe that wasn't exactly the best way to start off this conversation. Could we start over?"

He remained still, his eyes fixed on her open hand. She refused to flinch. "Logan?"

He looked up at her face, hands still firmly in his pockets. His gaze felt heavier, somehow.

"Well, I'll start. Hi, I'm Veronica. It's been a while. Hope you're doing well." She quirked an eyebrow.

In one moment, she felt his palm come in very quick contact with her own. In the next, she found herself inexplicably pulled forward and then immediately tipped backwards, bent at the waist, with a very, very warm and familiar sensation of moving lips on her own. A taste - fascinatingly comforting - assaulted her taste buds. She gasped, and his tongue instantly obliged.

_What am I -_

Her mind gave way to her body, and she just as fervently kissed him back. Eyes shut, she slid her arms up behind his neck, pulling their faces closer. His hands scooted under her leather jacket and pressed her torso firmly against his. They moved in perfect synchronization - with the kind of muscle memory impossible to forget - until there was next to no space between them. She whimpered helplessly.

Then, just as suddenly as he had touched her, he deposited her flat on the floor and stepped back. Her eyes popped open to a very confident smirk, not unlike the one he often sported in high school eons ago.

_Wait, what?_

"I had to." He spoke first.

"Had to?"

_Take it easy, there, cardiac muscle._

"Had to get it out of the way." He winked, picked up his keys, and walked away.

It took her three seconds to recover; she spun around. "What?"

He stopped at the foot of the white bannister stairs, turning his face without adjusting his body back around. "Couldn't have you thinking about doing that all weekend, could we?"

Another wink later, he's gone.

* * *

"Are you  _sure_  you'll be okay?"

_It's annoying how perceptive she can be sometimes._

"I'm fine," Veronica grunted with a dismissive wave. She gestured to the open space in the mostly empty ballroom. "Go practice with your Casablancas charmer."

"Ah, you admit it."

"I admit nothing."

"You don't really mind us together anymore, do you?" The way Mac's perfect smile matched her perfect hair was almost annoyingly - well, perfect.

"I admit nothing," Veronica repeated with a smile before the maid of honor got dragged away by her burly blond boyfriend. To give her credit, Mac had tried her best not to address the awkward lobby encounter only she had witnessed. Veronica had never been more thankful for feigned ignorance.

She leaned back on her undressed ballroom chair, surveying the room of straggling wedding party members preparing for the grand cotillion. Why Parker ever thought having her groom's ex-girlfriend as part of her bridal entourage was utterly beyond her.

"Veronica!"

_Ah, here's comes the bride._

She stood up with a very polite smile. Parker, her golden curls cascading around her, glided - yes, glided - over to her and gave her big kisses on the cheek.

It took all her effort to maintain that polite smile. "Hey you, ready for the big day?"

"It's going to be splendid, Veronica! I'm so glad you could make it!"

_Bridal ebullience, ugh._

"Of course." She smiled stiffly. "Wouldn't miss it."

"Veronica!"

_Double ugh._

"Hey Piz." Veronica grinned forcibly wider and extended a hand. "Congratulations. You two will be so happy together."

The limp handshake he proffered had her think back for a quick moment at the few times she'd actually witnessed his limp - something else.

_Not everyone can be Logan, Mars._

She shook her head. "Anyway, ready for that dance practice?"

"Absolutely!" It's amazing how Parker's soprano never shattered any glass. "Let's go get ready."

_Thank you._

One hand on her chest in an 'oh-so-excited' pose, Parker used her other to drag her groom away. Veronica waved them goodbye, quite happily.

"Oh, by the way!" Parker turned. "Your partner's held up and won't be here till tomorrow. But no worries, we'll get you a sub for practice!"

And something in her gut just  _knew_ who it was going be.

* * *

"If your goal is to keep staring down my shirt all afternoon, the height advantage sure comes in handy."

"Certainly - but since it's a rather difficult to stare down  _other_  ladies' shirts from this vantage point, your humble assets would have to suffice."

Repulsed, she instantly pulled away, but he - being annoyingly stronger - kept her firmly in hold. The music picked up to the twirly part of the choreography. She groaned.

"Why do you torture me?"

Their arms opened until they formed a straight line before he seamlessly reeled her back in.

"You flatter me, Veronica."

She pointedly ignored the warmth of his lips behind her ear, his hand on her waist. "Flatter? Must be an off-day."

"Menopause? - Ouch!"

The grin that twisted into her cheeks mirrored the heel on his foot. "Oh. Sorry-not-sorry."

He recovered remarkably well as he whirled her out for another spin. "Thank God I don't keep a ledger then."

"Oh, but I do," she sneered, resuming their hold. "And that Logan Echolls section is  _pretty red_  right now."

"Didn't realize I could score for being charming."

"Or murderous."

"Ah, thought I paid for that one."

"With what?"

It was just her luck that the choreography had him dip her right then, letting him lean down until their faces almost touched. He whispered, voice deep and slow, "Maybe with a couple of hot, hot summer nights in NYC?"

_Damn you, Logan._

She knew her face was hopelessly flushed by the time he pulled her back up. But two more steps, and the song finally ended.

"Oh, that was wonderful!" Parker's squeals reverberated throughout the ballroom. "Five minutes break, and we'll do it again!"

With plenty of eye-rolling, Veronica flopped down at a nearby chair.

"Water?"

"Like I would trust a beverage from you right now?"

"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence." And off he went with a sigh.

She grumbled for another minute, hands tugging at her aching ankles, as she contemplated the rest of the wedding party. Why people enjoyed at all the premeditated torture that is out-of-town weddings utterly baffled her. But, here they were - a bunch of idiots.

Up in front, Wallace and his date were chatting happily with the bride and groom. Near the wall, both sets of wedding parents huddled in a blithesome conversation. Behind them, Mac and Dick were laughing over some unknown inside joke, with Logan fast approaching them. She looked away.

"It's  _your_ fault we messed up!"

"It was totally you!"

"You!"

"You!"

_Huh?_

Veronica turned towards the yelling on her right. Just a yard away from her, a medium-built, male brunette was gesturing wildly at a blonde who looked remarkably like the bride.

_Right...the prerequisite crazy sister._

"You probably intentionally sabotaged the entire routine so you could look good!"

"Why would that make me look good?"

"Cuz you always do!"

And in a whir, the couple was suddenly kissing. Veronica raised an eyebrow.

"Just because you kiss me doesn't mean I forgive you," the woman whimpered.

"Right, because I didn't have to forgive you too."

"But it was your fault!" She literally pushed him.

_Say what?_

"It was yours!"

"Oh, because I am the stupid one who doesn't deserve you!"

"We  _always_  knew I was the settler in this marriage!"

_WHAT?_

"Fine! Go find someone else!" She screamed.

"Fine! I will!"

Still entranced by the most dysfunctional marriage she'd witnessed in recent years - and that was saying something - Veronica was surprised to suddenly look up to a stocky man roughly ten years her senior who had just marched away from his wife in the world's most juvenile argument.

"My wife is a horrible person. Would you want to swap partners?"

Veronica gaped in disbelief.

_As if I actually have a partner to swap right now._

"I, uhm - "

"She's very much taken, thank you." Logan's voice cut through. She relaxed - but only until Logan's arm slid around her waist.  _That_ had her sitting up taller for entirely different reasons. "And sorry, dude, I don't like to share - even with the bride's brother-in-law."

With a huff and a glare, the man trudged back to his fuming wife.

_What just happened?_

She turned slowly towards Logan, a thank you on her lips.

But then there it was again - that incorrigible smirk. "Did I cross out more from that ledger?"

How could someone be so simultaneously infuriating and endearing at the same time?

"What?" He continued with a wink. "You're gonna deny that was hot? You cover it up, Veronica Mars, but you are totally into a protective man."

_How did he -_

"Daddy issues?" He grinned.

And at that, she stormed out of the room.

* * *

_"No one is perfect, Veronica."_

Her feet couldn't race fast enough as she flew down the patio steps.

_"And it's about time you accept that."_

Unfortunately, shutting her eyes wasn't enough to shut off the words in her mind while they're at it. She rushed forward on the grass.

"Veronica!"

She shook her head.

_You talk; I run. What's new, Logan?_

"Veronica! Wait!"

Rays of afternoon orange amplified the colors of the nearby woods. She stepped faster towards them.

"Veronica, wait! I'm sorry!"

She shook her head, her legs slowing down of their own accord.

_"The moment we do, you run."_

She stopped abruptly, knees bent and torso keeled over. She braced her hands on her thighs. Her pants sounded far too loud in the Midwestern dusk.

"Veronica," he called from a foot behind her. "I'm sorry, okay? That joke was a little - too much."

She pulled herself upright and shrugged, refusing to turn.

"Veronica - "

She scoffed at his pleading tone before whipping around. Her words sputtered forward like an angry machine gun. "Really, Logan? You arrive here this morning swaggering like a narcissistic pirate, kiss me like a drunken sailor, treat it as a joke, volunteer to be my practice dance partner in the world's most awkward wedding  _ever_ , snark at me all afternoon, insult the one healthy relationship I ever had, and then expect ' _I'm sorry_ ' to fix everything?"

The contriteness in his face had her almost appeased. He plugged a hand in a pocket, with much less suave than he did that same morning. "Veronica, I - like you said, it's been a while." He swallowed visibly. "And I - I'm sorry if we got off on the wrong foot."

She crossed her arms, head held high.

"So, uhm." He extended a hand. "Start over?"

She lowered her gaze to the open, extended hand between them.

_No, Veronica, you are vehemently not going to drag him down for another kiss._

"Ronnie?"

She looked up at the nickname, eyes searching his.

"And I apologize for kissing you like that today," he added, hand still suspended. "It was - I shouldn't have done that."

_But I'm glad you did._

She heaved a deep breath of personal loathing.

"Glad we agree," she lied.

Logan attempted a small smile before nodding. "So - uhm. Hi, I'm Logan. It's been a while. Hope you're doing well?"

She bit her lower lip for a second. She looked down until she finally sneaked a peek at his puppy-dog face.

_Oh what the heck._

She grabbed his hand in a firm handshake. He broke out an amiable-enough smile. She returned a hesitant one before letting go.

They both stared at the ground for a moment.

"So, uhm - guess we should head back?" He cocked his head towards the small ballroom.

Veronica shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."

"Wouldn't want the bride going crazy."

"Yeah, you would know."

"Oh yes." He nodded thoughtfully. "She was quite the tigress the day she broke up with me."

"Interesting." She tilted her head. "I seem to remember her being more of a kitten the day I broke up with Piz."

The exchanges pointed looks for a moment. They both broke into smiles.

"And here I thought she was flaunting all of this wedding huzza for  _me_  alone," he mused.

She almost chuckled. "Mind your ego, Echolls. I'm pretty sure the groom's ex-girlfriend is  _pretty high_  on the flaunt-it-in-their-face list."

"Higher than the ex-boyfriend?"

"In most cases."

"Unless, of course."

"Unless what?"

He grinned. "Unless it's  _your_ ex-boyfriend doing the flaunting."

She considered for a moment. "Piz?"

Logan shrugged 'maybe.'

She quirked a brow in thought.

"Wait! Who's missing?!" Echoes of Parker's high-pitched calls interrupted the crepuscular calm.

Veronica smiled with another head tilt. "Your ex-girlfriend summons."

"Ah, dangerous grounds I tread." He offered his arm to her in a ridiculously old-fashioned pose. "Will you help me navigate?"

"Yeah, sure." She shoved his arm away with a short laugh. "Who better to impress an ex-girlfriend than another ex-girlfriend? It's almost psychologically unfair. You're the only gaining from that hypothetical scenario."

"You see through me, Mars - every single time."

_Oh Logan, if only I do. If only I actually do._

* * *

"Oh, yes! Yes! Ugh! Almost, baby! Yes, yes!"

"I'm coming right after. Come on!"

"Yes! Ugh, yes! Don't stop!"

"I'm trying - not to - "

"Oooh, yes! Ah!"

Veronica slapped the second pillow on her face, her whole body shivering with disgust.

_You'd think Parker would give me a break at night._

Veronica groaned.

And thanks to all-too-thin walls, the very moment oxygen constraints forced her to remove the pillow from her face, the unsettling coital vocal exchange immediately resumed assaulting her ears.

"Yeah, baby! Yeah! Come on, you could do better!"

Veronica shuddered. If Parker's crazy, her sister was certifiable. Entirely frustrated, she hurled herself off the bed and landed on the wooden floor with a loud thud.

_Who cares? I'm waking up nobody._

Disgruntled, she wandered out into the small balcony. Because, for whatever reason, the builders of old thought it unessential for each room to have its own bathroom and yet considered balconies a minimum requirement.

She inhaled in the evening air, trying hard to ignore the less distinct 'chatter' from the next room.

_Why, Parker, why?_

Veronica shook her head in the dark. If the bartender's asking for her ID at the bar tonight had been any indication, she wasn't even supposed to be hearing these sounds!

_And then Logan came over with another quip about my height - of course._

Veronica fought a smile. After their runaway moment that afternoon, Logan had turned down his antics a remarkable notch. And she'd be lying if she denied finding his surfing stories funny. She'd known he'd gone pro, but personal stories were an entirely different story.

"Oh, Brandon. Yes! Yes!"

Veronica rolled her eyes at the escalating voice before she sported another small smile. Surfing stories hadn't been the only thing Logan mentioned tonight.

 _"So about your stalker"_  
_"My stalker?"_  
_"Yes - medium height, medium age, and completely brother-in-law to the buzzing bride?"_  
_"Okay?"_  
_"His name is Brandon."_  
_"So?"_  
_"And I know from experiences I'd rather not relive that Parker's sister is Angela."_  
_She raised an eyebrow._  
_"Any guesses how they like to refer to themselves?"_  
_Her eyes turned round at the thought. "No way."_  
_He nodded, eyes dancing._

And indeed, she had 'Brangela' to thank for finally ending their bedroom acrobatics and leave her some peace of mind. Satisfied that her neighbors' orgasmic heights had been fully ridden for the night, Veronica climbed back into her squeaky metal bed and its vaguely flowery covers.

She snuggled her face into the soft pillow and slung her leg around another. The bed allotted her may be on the small side, but no bed buddy meant getting to hog all the pillows unapologetically.

Still tipsy from the drinks she'd downed all night to avoid scowling at the bride and groom, she drifted off to a dreamless state.

"Ready for round two, baby?"

Veronica lifted her eyelids.

_Say what?_

"Oh, ah! Yes! Yes!"

Incredulous, she used both hands to prop the edges of her pillow against her ears.

_Seriously, people?_

Unfortunately for Veronica, solid matter conducted noise far better than gas.

Bemoaning her room assignment, she closed her eyes and cursed herself for not bringing anyone, maybe even Leo. For all she knew, maybe 'I'm willing to break up but I just need four more days of your time' could've turned out okay.

_"You don't really know how to love, Veronica. You just use people."_

His voice suddenly cut through her consciousness. She gulped down her guilt. Hey, she would've treated him nicely.

Seriously, if she had a boyfriend with her on this weekend, she would gladly go for far more rounds than the couple in the next -

_Who are you kidding, Veronica? It's only ever been that way with one particular boyfriend._

And that boyfriend was currently all by himself in a room just across the hall.

Veronica gulped again, this time from that pooling warmth between her thighs. She crossed her legs and pulled her comforter higher up her chest.

Logan was a charmer - always had been, always would be. But he was never a liar. In between the lines of their quick conversations tonight, he had clearly implied a deep interest in her still, an interest she had to admit she shared. And if there was any residue of chemistry left from wherever that hot kiss in the lobby had come from, maybe 'Brangela' wouldn't be the only ones humping the night away.

"Come on, baby. Come on."

Veronica shuddered. As if Angela's squeals weren't disturbing enough.

Spurred by a surge of annoyance and curiosity, she slid back on to the floor, grabbed her robe, and tiptoed out the hallway.

_'Hi Logan, may I sleep in here tonight? My room is really noisy. So let's make yours noisy too.'_

She slowly lifted a hand to knock.

_This should work, right? People hook up at weddings all the time._

She heaved a deep breath.

"Baby, I'm not fooling around, okay?" The loud couple's voices spilled over into the hallway.

Then Veronica lowered her hand.

_Fooling around._

Wasn't that exactly what she was trying to do?

If she were to knock, to enter, and to climb on to that bed, there would be sparks galore. She looked hesitantly at the door of 'Brangela's' room.

But where would that leave them in the morning?


	2. By the End of the Night

"Good morning, Veronica!"

_Inhale, exhale._

She turned around with the perfect rehearsed smile just in time for the bride to place two uncomfortable kisses on her cheeks. "Good morning, Parker. Well, you look great."

"Oh, thank you!" The taller blonde squealed with a hand on her clavicle. "Piz always  _did_ love the color purple on me."

Veronica eyed the silky wrap dress from head to two as expected of her, shiny lavender against the white tables all around the dining room. "Yeah, it's - uhm, beautiful."

Parker responded with her giggle-shrug thing.

Veronica smiled politely.

_So what am I supposed to say now?_

"Good morning, dear." The groom appeared with an instant arm around his fiancée's shoulder. "Veronica."

Piz barely nodded her way before dipping Parker into a deep, lingering kiss.

_Ah, that's what we were waiting for._

Veronica shifted awkwardly as the couple smooched for another minute, knowing in her gut that a cultured audience was expected to stay right where they were until the end of the performance. She plunged her hands into her jacket pockets.

"Wow, that was amazing, sweetheart." Parker cooed as she finally resumed an upright position. Piz pulled her close with a smile.

Veronica half-grinned. What's she supposed to do - applaud?

"Oh, Veronica, I'm so sorry! I  _totally_ forgot you were right there. So rude of me!" Parker exclaimed the very next moment, her eyes round with grand mortification.

_Yeah, just like you did on your birthday half a decade ago._

Veronica flashed a smile - the last shot left on her current magazine of patience. "Oh, it's fine. It's great to see you two so - happy."

The couple giggled and cuddled nauseatingly before excusing themselves apologetically.

_Oh, by all means._

Her stomach up in arms in protest by now, Veronica made a beeline for the cozy brunch buffet table by the window. On any other day, perhaps the shy morning breeze toying with the pastel drapes would make her feel warm, peaceful, or even serene. Today? The food was cold, the sun too bright, and the day just far too cheerful.

She plopped generous amounts of bacon on top of the three pancakes on her plate before reaching out for the syrup.

_Where's the syrup again?_

"Here you go."

She looked up to all six feet of her ex-boyfriend in a dark grey henley, syrup dispenser in hand. Somehow, he's never looked handsomer.

"Oh, thanks." She lifted her plate for a generous helping.

And something about the way his toned forearm tilted the handle made her wish she was the creature being dipped in his arms instead.

_Veronica!_

She bit her lip, desperately fighting the blush that threatened to form at the thoughts of her stunts in bed alone last night, stunts fuelled by a repetitive mental loop of their lobby make-out.

"That's enough?"

She snapped out of it to meet Logan's quizzical eyebrows before glancing down at her brimming ceramic plate. "Yes, definitely. Thanks."

She wandered away in a daze before sitting down at the nearest table. She stared blankly at her food.

"You okay?" Logan placed his own plate to her left before grabbing a chair. "Rough night?"

She turned to face him again for a quick moment.

_Guess one could say so._

"Yeah - I guess."

"Ah, forgot to pack Miss My Little Pony?" He stabbed casually at his fruits.

She smiled genuinely for the first time all morning. "I'm more of a unicorn girl, really."

"Like 'em horny, huh?"

"Yup," she replied right back at the sight of 'Brangela' prancing into the dining area entwined in each others' arms. "Just like them."

Logan briefly turned the direction indicated by her suspended fork before breaking into a chuckle.

"You heard them too, huh?" She sighed.

"More than I'd care to," he grumbled, head shaking. "I'm amazed you're still functional."

"I've had a full plate of bacon staring at me for the past five minutes without taking a single bite." She gestured at her food. "You call this functional?"

Logan laughed before pointing to his own fruits and eggs. "Beats an athlete's diet."

She smiled.

"Oh, there you are!"

_Please God, not again._

"I  _must_ know if you guys had a good night's sleep last night! We  _so_ told them to give you comfortable rooms!"

Her peripheral vision barely caught Logan's fist unclenching before he replied with well-rehearsed ease. "Ah, yes, slept perfectly well. Thank you, Parker" - he glanced towards the man attached to her arm - "Piz."

It took everything in her not to grab Logan's hand in solidarity.

"Oh, that's  _so_ good to know!" The bride giggled, still taped to Piz's side as they hovered over the small round table. "I  _really_ wanted to give you guys nice rooms - nothing but the best for our friends! But since you're both here alone and the rooms are, like, all taken. I really didn't have much of a choice!"

_Parker, if you don't want one of your bridesmaids to rip off your train on your way down that chapel in the wildwood -_

"So I'm  _so sorry_  if the rooms are - "

"I believe the rooms are sufficient," Logan cut her off promptly.

_Why did I ever break-up with you again?_

"Thank you," he added curtly.

"That's - good." Two seconds later, the couple was gone.

Veronica glanced down at her plate with the hint of a smile. "Paparazzi-trained conciseness. Color me impressed."

She could hear him smiling too.

"Apparently, you never just stop being Aaron Echolls's son."

"Sucks to be you?" She offered, finally chewing a bite of her pancake.

"Depends, it does come with its perks." He grabbed his water bottle - probably something distilled and injected with vitamins galore. "For one, I get free publicity."

She swallowed her mouthful of bacon with a nod. "And notoriety?"

"Some," he acknowledged, leaning back on the creaky old chair. "But free ad deals never hurt. You'll be surprised, bad boys tend to sell product  _pretty well._ "

Her face slipped into a smile as she turned, ready to mutter something about street cred and all when suddenly - his chocolate eyes were locked on to hers, his lips curled up in a faint, mesmerizing smile.

_Bad boy charisma, Logan? No argument here._

"They must pay you really well, then." She stated the only coherent sentence in her mind.

His gaze wandered slowly from her eyes to her lips, before trailing back up. She could swear his hand was inching towards her shoulder.

_Why did I break up with you again?_

"Just the usual." He sounded just as absent-minded as she felt. "You know, booze and money."

"And mansions and boats?"

"Yeah, with boring parties and boring music."

"Ah, and free vacations?"

"Sure, ski trips and tropical getaways - never gets old."

And then it all crashed back.

_And that's why I broke up with him._

"Excuse me." She stood up abruptly. "I gotta go."

* * *

Hands on her hips, she stared down the audacious pink box on her bed, its leopard-print bow accentuating the entire room.

From the moment Parker responded to 'I'm sorry I can't make it for the bridal shower' with 'Then let's combine it with the bachelorette party!,' Veronica had every opportunity to prepare for the dreaded evening. But apparently, hiding in your room all afternoon bracing for something undesirable didn't really make reality any less hurtful.

She heaved a heavy sigh, eyes transfixed temporarily at the uneven blotches on the ceiling.

_There's only so much restoration and hearty scrubbing could do._

Having spent her formative years snapping money shots of strangely-clad hookers and mistresses during clandestine meetings, Veronica had never been into cosplay or lingerie. But when the bridal shower paperless post had arrived complete with bra size, she'd reckoned it impossible for a bridesmaid to get away with bringing a bridal-registry-approved punch bowl to the party.

She walked tentatively towards the pink box as if it were a foreign object rather than something she had picked up herself at the store. She stopped a foot away and shivered involuntarily at the recollection of its purchasing process.

_Wouldn't be the first time._

"Parker would  _so_ love this!" Angela's voice echoed through the wall. "Why wear two things when one is enough?"

_"Oh, and as a friend, he's not so big on the one-piece numbers."_

The words zapped through her mind like a bolt of lightning, baring everything in its path. Her hands flew instantly to the bed's metal railing as she braced herself physically for the emotional torment that followed every recollection of that moment.

_"Oh, Logan and I hooked up in Aspen over the holidays. I guess you two were split, huh?"_

She closed her eyes, futilely willing her mind to stop. She shuddered, Madison's self-congratulatory smirk glaring at her brain like a broken neon sign.

_Why her, Logan? Why her?_

"You sure Piz is into that kind of stuff?" Brandon reckoned loudly.

"What guy isn't? Those two could use some help spicing up their sex life," Angela countered promptly.

Veronica almost laughed at the absurdity of it all.

_Sex life? Piz? Good luck with that._

She turned around briefly before collapsing on the bedside rug. Her knees shrunk instinctively to her chin while her arms circled her legs, pulling herself into a cocoon and its accompanying false sense of safety. She blinked back tears.

Veronica was a sexual being - most humans were. But when it came to awakening that part of her, there really had always been one candidate alone.

_"I fooled around with this horrible girl who meant less than nothing to me, and I couldn't regret it more."_

His words echoed in her mind, hollow and pained. She closed her eyes and lowered her forehead to her kneecaps.

_How could he always treat sex as something so casual?_

"Something meaningless," she muttered out loud under her breath before a sniff escaped her.

_"No one is perfect, Veronica, and it's about time you accept that."_

Leo's sad, broken voice joined the symphony in her mind. She slumped further down, nestling the back of her neck against the curve of the bed.

"Veronica! Time to go!"

Veronica jumped at the sudden voice and knock at her door. She turned her wrist until her eyes met her watch.

"Veronica?"

_Can't blame Mac for being friends with both the bridesmaid and the bride._

"Coming!"

Doors slammed in her peripheral hearing. Then she closed her eyes, sighed, and pushed herself off the floor.

* * *

"Well, aren't you dressed to kill?"

She paused with her left hand still on the brass doorknob, her right hand balancing the offensive pink package. She mustered a smile at the compliment before turning up at the man who'd just exited his own room across the tight hallway. Because, of course, Piz and Parker were the 'our parties have to be on the same night' type of couple.

"You're ever the flatterer, Logan."

"Oh Mars, you wound me." He right hand flew to his chest in mock offense, fingers splayed over his dark red shirt. "I am nothing but sincere."

She couldn't resist rolling her eyes, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. She swept her free hand down the length of her figure. "If this is called dressing up, then my dad should be a red carpet regular. Vanity Fair would cry foul."

"That's when you're wrong." His lips quirked into their usual confident smirk as his eyes made an open perusal of her leather, jeans, and boots ensemble. He leaned forward ever so slightly. "There's nothing hotter than a woman comfortable in her own skin."

She caught her breath at the wink that followed.

_How does he keep doing this to me?_

"People! We're gonna be late!" A generic holler echoed from the ground floor.

Veronica jumped, surprised at the blush creeping up at her cheeks. Logan seemed to shift towards nowhere in particular.

"Guess we should go?"

She didn't look up before nodding silently and stepping forward.

"Oh, sorry!" His hand flew instantly to balance her by the elbows as the pink box tumbled to the ground. She glanced up apologetically.

_Who built these tiny hallways anyway?_

A current of electricity seemed to course from his fingers, up her arm, and straight to her heart. She blinked repetitively for two seconds before she pulled back, mumbling apologies as she crouched down to retrieve the unfortunate present, its bow utterly deformed.

He was by her side immediately, his expert hands instantly grabbing the ribbon from her and restoring it to its upright glory around the gaudy box.

"I didn't know we had to bring gifts."

It took a second for her to realize he'd said something. "Oh yeah. Uhm, I don't think you had to. It's just the girls. It's a 'double-party,' they say."

"Double party?" He supported her by the arm as they both stood up, gift box redeemed.

"Yeah." She gripped the box with both hands now, supporting it against her abdomen. "It's supposed to be bachelorette party and bridal shower all in one."

Logan shrugged in a way only men could when confronted with feminine nuances. He lifted his open palms in a 'no comment' gesture. "No argument here. If women want to buy each other sexy underthings? It's their problem."

He turned on his heel and walked towards to the stairs.

_Sexy underthings?_

She felt her chest constrict impossibly tight.

_How could he always treat sex -_

"Are you really against the one-piece numbers?"

There - she'd asked it.

Three steps away, Logan twisted around, brow furrowed. "What?"

She sighed, her fingers digging into the flashy box.

_Oh, to hell with it._

"Madison."

That one word was apparently enough to have him stand fearfully still.

Hands still gripping the present tightly against her body, her eyes jumped back and forth between his grim face and the worn-out carpet. She licked her lips. "She - she met me one time at - a shop."

He stayed silent, eyes trained on her.

She inhaled. "When she walked up at the counter, she told me that you weren't into the one-piece numbers. She - "

Veronica looked down, refusing to meet his laser eyes. She desperately tried to lighten her tone. "She told me you guys hooked up in Aspen, and well - I mean, we were broken up at that time, and I totally get it now. But when she's talking about your  _lingerie preferences_? I mean - it made me feel silly for even thinking of buying anything to hang off this bag of bones, you know. And I - "

"Hey - " His hand flew to her shoulder, and her eyes flew to his. The pain reflected back at her made her ribcage feel three sizes too small for her heart.

And then it dawned on her.

"She made that up, didn't she?"

Logan nodded, brows and shoulders slumping. His voice came out low. "It was a drunken orgy of a night at the cabin. Random men and women with unlimited alcohol and very uninhibited limbs. It was the luck - or unluck - of the draw whoever ended with whom by the end of the night."

He looked up at her, his fingers tight on her shoulder. "I regret it more than anything else."

Her eyes blurred of their own accord. Her next breath felt like an intake of cold, freezing air.

_Veronica, let this go._

"Why?"

Logan - big California surfer star - hung his head. "I don't have an excuse. Trust me, I wish did. But if it makes any difference - I didn't know it was her until the morning after."

_But why did you -_

"Logan! Veronica! Are you guys coming?" Mac's voice bounced through the wooden walls.

"Coming!" She hollered, pushed her way past Logan, and flew down the stairs.

* * *

"Oh he's so gonna love that!"

Yet another surge of unearthly screams assaulted her ears as she forced her hands to remain firmly on her lap. She shifted uncomfortably on the puffy armchair, an apparent highlight of the old-fashioned tea house, as the other girls swooned at the most recently revealed negligee. It's white again, of course.

_Kill me now._

"Veronica, isn't this gorgeous?"

She looked up at the bride's summons, said bride parading her latest present of white satin against her shoulders. She twisted her hips as if dancing. "Piz would totally love this, don't you think?"

Veronica plastered on a grin; it's gotten easier with practice, after all. Her fingers toyed with the lining of her jean pockets, the denim contrasting sharply with the frilly, floral dresses everyone else seemed to be wearing. "It's lovely, Parker. You'll look absolutely perfect."

"Don't I know it?" Parker giggled before settling back on her chair of honor, the other bridesmaids caving in around her for the next reveal.

Veronica sighed under her breath.

"You okay?" Mac whispered behind her.

She fought the urge to roll her eyes. "That's your go-to phrase now?"

"Only when it's deserved."

She glanced at the open sincerity on Mac's face for a quick moment before conceding with a slump of her shoulders. "As okay as I could be."

Girls squealed in the background as the two friends huddled closer, alternating sips of the signature black tea blend with their whispers.

"You and Logan took a while to come down today. You guys - patching up?"

Veronica scoffed. "More like excavating old wounds."

Mac's face scrunched instantly. "I know this wedding is uncomfortable for both of you, but maybe it's a good time for a truce? It's only two more days, Vee."

_Truce?_

Veronica almost laughed at the absurdity of the suggestion. They never were good with truces.

_It's all love or all hate, never in between._

"To Parker from Veronica. All the best." The bride's tag-reading voice forced both of them to refocus at the task at hand.

Veronica looked up to an image of Parker rushing over to give her yet another overly enthusiastic hug. She limply returned it.

"Thank you so much, Veronica! I just know I'm gonna love this!"

Veronica offered as sincere a smile as she could muster. "No problem. Why don't you open it?"

Off came the leopard bow, plop went the barbie box, and out came the light pink lace bustier that had been the tamest thing in the entire store she'd visited. Veronica braced herself.

"So sexy! So scandalous!" Parker's childhood friends gushed instantly. The bride's mother -  _what's she doing here anyway?_ \- furrowed her brow rather disapprovingly.

"Oh Veronica! This is gorgeous! I'm so gonna bring it on my honeymoon!" Parker sounded sincere enough as Veronica softly whispered that she's welcome.

"Pink lace, really?" Mac's voice was at her ear. "Didn't peg you to be so  _feminine_."

Veronica shrugged. "Didn't get the white-and-satin-only memo."

"At least you have  _one_ un-boring friend," Angela declared loudly as she grabbed the bustier from Parker's hands and promptly deposited it amongst the pile of white underthings. Veronica sighed.

_Hail to the upstaging sister._

"So," the sister-of-the-hour announced as she stood up, her frame as tall as Parker's, "gifts done. Time for snacks and games. Serve the refreshments, people!"

At her cue, the servers placed fresh tiers of finger food on each table and replenished everyone with freshly steeped tea. Veronica, never the fan of daintiness, eyed the trays idly. Being a perpetual fan of food consumption, however, she absent-mindedly reached out for a cookie.

"No way!" Another bridesmaid squealed to her right. "Angela! You're so naughty!"

_Naughty?_

Veronica glanced down at the cookie in her hand, its uneven swells bearing a bite mark of her own.

_What's so naughty about -_

She shut her mouth as hard as she could before she could scoff cookie crumbs all over the hand-sewn tablecloth. Her eyes flew to the rest of the items on the tray - the scones, tarts, cakes, and cookies - all lounging around as anatomically disproportionate imitations of male genitalia. She'd seen plenty of exaggeration in the two bachelorette events she'd been unfortunate enough to attend before today. But while those exaggerations tended towards unrealistic female fantasies, the one currently in her hand hadn't even hit puberty.

"Piz wouldn't approve of this!" Parker protested.

"What?" Angela shrugged. "It's a bachelorette party! You're not gonna tell me you're still a virgin, sister."

_Oh Angela, what would this wedding be without you?_

"But Piz - " Parker paused and lowered her voice. "But he's a very private person. You know that, Angie."

Again, the sister shrugged. "Come on, girl, be fun! It's not like I took a picture of him and actually replicated his dong."

Veronica burned her tongue as she quickly gulped down her tea before she could sputter it all over the table. She glanced sideways at the tray again.

_Actually, Angela -_

"But he wouldn't like this, okay?" Parker continued. "He promised me no strippers tonight, and I promised him nothing too sexual."

Angela countered right back. "I wouldn't compare this to strippers, Parker."

_I agree._

"But he's just - " The bride wouldn't back down. "He doesn't like to be public about anything sexual, okay?"

Veronica contemplated the comment for a moment, but only until Angela responded right back, loud and clear as day. "Parker! You told me Piz had a  _sex tape_ in college! How is that being a  _private person_?"

The gasps that gathered around the room corresponded perfectly with her own. Veronica clutched the edges of her jacket tighter.

_Please don't mention me. Please don't mention me -_

"Her?" Angela's voice cut through her mental pleas. "Mac, Parker, you're both looking at Veronica. Was  _she_ the ex-girlfriend who made a tape with Piz?"

All eyes in the room zoomed in on the leather-clad lady. Veronica, hopelessly cornered, sighed.

Slowly, whispered accusations began to permeate the room.

"She used to date Piz?"

"What a horrible thing to do!"

"A sex tape? What a slut!"

_I can hear you, people._

"Veronica," Mac's voice cut through the mumblings as she put a hand on Veronica's shoulder. "Just tell them the truth."

Veronica huffed.

_Cuz what do I have to lose?_

Jaw set, she sat up straight and squared her shoulders. She looked Parker right in the eye. "I never had sex with Piz."

The plaintive look in the bride's eyes gave way to indignation. She crossed her arms. "Don't lie to me, Veronica. I'm not blaming you two anymore for what happened, but don't try to tell me that - "

"We never went that far," Veronica concluded. She lowered her eyes, sounding calmer to herself than she'd even expected. "We, uhm - we did some hands stuff from time to time. And that video - that  _illegally_  created video - was just some foreplay, I guess you could call it."

She looked up at Parker again, gaze unflinching. "But we never got to the playing itself."

The softening of Parker's features showed that she believed her at least a little bit.

The room fell silent.

Parker spoke first. "But why?"

Veronica looked down.

"I had my reasons to not want sex in my first relationship after my - rape." Parker gulped. "But you - why not?"

Veronica met her eyes tentatively, the conclusion dawning on her for the first time. "Because I was in love with someone else."

* * *

"Oh yeah, baby! Come on, come on! Lovin' this!"

"Yes! Ah! Yes!"

Veronica groaned like a wild boar as she pressed the sides of her pillow even more tightly against her ears. She kicked away the too-hot comforter.

"Yes, baby! I love you, yeah!"

She rolled over and buried her face against the sheets.

_Please, Parker! I don't deserve this!_

"That was amazing!" Another loud declaration filtered easily through the thin wall.

Veronica sighed before rolling back to face the ceiling.

_Thank God it's over._

Stuck in the no man's land of emotional exhaustion and actual desire to sleep, she flung a forearm over her eyes. It only took two weeks to grow accustomed to the evening noises near a school campus. But now, in contrast, the early Midwestern silence felt far too quiet for normal slumber.

"I can't believe you!" Angela's shriek echoed into her room.

_On second thought, I'll take the quiet._

"What? It's not like I arranged it!" Brandon had apparently raised his voice too.

Veronica grumbled at the intrusion.

"I thought there weren't gonna be any strippers!" Angela cried.

And yet - she's just as intrigued as she was tired. She rolled up to a seated position on the lumpy mattress, effortlessly eavesdropping.

"There weren't! They were just dancers!"

"But they probably did the whole sexy dance thing that makes men think of boobs!"

Veronica pictured the awkward snacks this afternoon.

_Angela a hypocrite - who'd have thought?_

"It was a bachelor's party, baby!"

"Don't you baby me, you horrible, despicable - "

"I get it! Okay? I get that you're upset. Calling me names isn't gonna change anything that's already happened!"

Veronica shut her eyes.

"So you admit it then! Something  _did_ happen!"

"No! Nothing bad happened!"

"Oh, so you thinking about the boobs of another woman isn't anything bad?"

"I wasn't thinking of any other woman!"

"Yeah, sure - cuz strippers are totally not women."

"We didn't have strippers!" Brandon practically bellowed. Veronica's fingers instantly grabbed the bed to keep her stable.

_These two are impossible._

She shut her eyes tight, bracing herself for another round of arguments. It would be midnight before they're done.

Instead - there was silence.

_Huh?_

She turned around tentatively, alternately wishing for a continuation of the story and for some much-needed peace and quiet.

"You don't even love me," Angela muttered at last.

Veronica scrunched her brow.

"You don't know how to love," her husband countered.

_You don't really know how to love, Veronica._

She exhaled, willing Leo's words to stop looping in her mind.

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

The couple next door exchanged the last words of their argument before Veronica heard, and felt, the powerful slamming of a bedroom door.

Now she felt almost guilty for praying for peace and quiet - almost. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

_How could anyone survive a marriage like that?_

Time and time again, people failed in marriage and then tried again, and again, and again. Why wouldn't anyone just give up?

Lost in thought, she almost didn't hear the two sharp, concise knocks on her door.

_Angela?_

She scrambled off the bed, still clad in her tank top and sweat pants, and opened the door to a very drowsy-looking Logan Echolls.


	3. To the Actual Right

"Have fun, kiddos!"

She barely made out Angela's form in her peripheral vision before the bride's sister disappeared into the room across the hallway, the door banging close right after.

_Did she just -_

"Sorry to barge in," Logan mumbled, words slurred into a giant clump. "She, uhm - "

His right hand pulling on the edge of his T-shirt, he raised his left hand and ran it through his hair. His arm muscles stretched in the process.

_Focus, Veronica._

"I told her she should, uhm, stay with Barton - Barndon. It's, uhm - not her - room." His enunciation began to clarify just a tad. "She, uhm - pushed - me."

_Her? Right - Angela._

She cursed herself for having even remotely hoped that he was showing up for any other reason than a fundamental need for shelter after the Matron of Horror evicted him from his own room.

"You wanna come in?" She offered, manners recovering, as she stepped slightly to her right.

His gaze remained groggy as he nodded and stumbled forward into the barely-lit room. She frowned.

"Logan, are you drunk?"

She reached to help him regain an upright position. He leaned on her slightly to pull up straight.

_Hello, surfer muscles._

"Sorry, I shouldn't - have." His mumbling snapped her back from the potentially very lustful rabbit hole. He shook his head sharply from side to side, the futile movement of every sleepy creature. "I didn't drink much - much - but uhm - Angela, she - "

"She kicked you out, huh?" She finished for him.

He nodded, rubbing his eyes. "Couldn't sleep - her husband - something - "

_And if I wasn't royally pissed at today's sequence of torturous events, I'd say he's rather adorable._

"Come on, Lo." She instinctively guided him towards the bed, a gesture she'd mastered for drunk Logan since high school. "Lie down and sleep."

Half awake, he complied readily - until his knees hit the edge of the bed.

"Logan, just lie down. You'll be okay in the morning." She turned him around gently and nudged him to sit down.

"Ronnie!" The subconscious robot of drunken energy sputtered to life as he suddenly grabbed her by the waist and pressed her tightly against the athletic texture of his shirt. Due to their weight imbalance, they plunged right on the bed with her pulled tightly over his body. She caught her breath.

"Logan, let go."

"Ronnie, no, please - don't go." He began to sniff her hair, her ear, her neck - his strong arms resolutely tight around her tiny body.

"Logan, please!"

"I don't want her - no, no Parker, no Madison - no, Angela - no one."

She willed her heart to stop racing - and failed utterly. She tried to press herself up. "Logan, please."

"Ronnie, no!" He buried his face into her neck, chest heaving. She fought hard not to mirror his actions.

"Logan, you're drunk. We can't do this right now."

"Drunk - drunk," he mumbled, hot breath against her skin. Then he scoffed. "Don't get drunk, ever. Drunk people say stuff - important stuff. And then they forget."

The lightning bolt that zapped through her heart made her eyes instantly well. She blinked repeatedly, forcefully.

When his arms slightly relaxed, she immediately twisted off his torso and on to the bed. The mattress bounced and squeaked.

For a minute, they lay there silently, panting at the emotional weight of the hour, eyes staring blankly at the rusty ceiling fan.

_He's drunk, Veronica - you can't expect him -_

"Parker - sister - I mean, Angela," he grumbled. She turned to look at him. "She barged in my room - so angry. And the lock was broken, and - "

He shook his head helplessly. She waited.

"Guess I shouldn't be surprised," he mumbled, still looking up. "Those Lee sisters - got a knack for that."

"For what?" She asked without a thought.

Logan shrugged against the comforter that now looked extra girly with him on it. He spoke grimly, "Barging into my room and throwing a tantrum?"

_Lee sisters -_

Veronica sat up on the bed. "Parker used to do that?"

Logan laughed, harsh and bitter. "We didn't go out long enough for her to do it more than once."

Her mind scrambled for distant memories. "You broke up with her?"

He laughed again, this time with a forearm slung over his eyes. " _She_ broke up with _me_."

"Why? You were the perfect boyfriend to her. You - " She stopped herself short, unwilling to go down the memory lane with the Parker's-boyfriend version of Logan. But she had always assumed he'd gotten sick of Parker first. "What was her reason?"

Grim smile in place, Logan lowered his hand and looked straight up at her. Even drunk, his words rang clear as day. "Cuz she knew I would always come back to you."

Every fiber of her being sprung alive, ready to lean down and press her lips to his - plus whatever else that followed.

But, as always, her mind did its overtaking.

_Always? Yeah right, Logan._

Too tired to confront any genuine emotions, she slid off the bed and marched over to the ornate carved chair beside the chestnut closet. She plopped down on its worn cushion.

"Veronica," Logan mumbled, looking everywhere randomly.

She struggled to reinforce the dams in her tear ducts.

_Drunk Logan - Madison, epic speeches, Kendall -_

She closed her eyes.

"Veronica, I'm sorry."

She looked up at his shiny brown eyes - almost black in the bleak lighting from one forlorn, fringed table lamp. She licked her lips, mouth running dry.

"I only wanted you."

She blinked, looking at the carpet, the lamp, the window - anything but at him.

_He's drunk, Veronica. And we all know what happens when Logan makes drunken speeches._

"I never wanted Madison," he started again, face turned sideways towards her. "I never wanted Parker. I never wanted - "

"Just _stop!_ " She jumped off the chair, arms raised. She exhaled at the sight of Logan teary-eyed. She groaned, arms now folded. "I don't need you to parade all your _conquests_ , Logan. You say you want me - only me. But what happens after every single break-up? What happens after I say 'no' to being your alterna-prom conquest of the night?"

Now standing a mere foot from the bed, she glared straight into his eyes. Her voice fell out more terse, broken. "If I'm really the one you want - then what's with the harem, Logan? What's with this need to be a _man whore_?"

"God dammit, I'm not a man whore, Veronica!" He rolled off the bed, stumbling a bit before finding his footing. She almost reached out, almost. "I'm not that person anymore, okay? And sex doesn't really prove anything, okay?"

She glanced down, feeling just a tiny smidgeon of guilt.

_Choices of conversation topics with someone drunk: history, break-ups, or sexual conquests?_

She shook her head, arms winding tighter in a knot. "And I'm supposed to just believe you when you say that?"

He stepped back, almost crashing into the nightstand. She looked up just as he found his balance.

"Veronica - " Her name sounded like a plea off his tongue. "What else could I do?"

She blinked, hard. "What do you mean?"

"Since the moment you broke up with me - I've stopped the hooking up. No one-night stands, no trophy wives, no nothing." He sounded half wounded and half exasperated. "What else do you want?"

"What else do _I_ want?" She scoffed, incredulous. "When has this been about _me_ , Logan? When have _you_ started caring about what _I_ wanted?"

He shook his head, mouth gaping. "Do you even _hear_ yourself, Veronica?!"

"Of course I do!" She screamed. A sob escaped her before she sighed the others away. "You - you want sex when you can have it. Do you even care about me? Do you even _want_ me?"

His entire face personified bewilderment. He stumbled closer. "What on earth, Veronica? I - "

"I've always wanted you," she interrupted, voice hollow. She folded herself as tightly as possible into a prickly ball of defense. "I've never rejected you, Lo. That summer - "

She bit her lip at the mention of the first romance that started it all. It had been wonderful, until it wasn't. She looked up, feeling entirely too small in the old-fashioned little room. "I wanted you then, Lo. I've wanted you forever. It was _you_ who kept saying 'not yet' and 'someday.'"

She saw his eyes widen, a sure sign of eventual retaliation.

_But who cares? Shoot now, clean up later._

"You didn't even want me," she harshly condemned. "You jump _right_ into bed with every other woman, but you decided to be celibate with me?"

Their eyes met, all four orbs teary. She gulped. Then she blurted out her closing statement, "It just doesn't add up."

They stared at each other for a few seconds - or hours. The night breeze whistled through the open balcony door.

_So -_

"Veronica."

His gaze was almost too intense to bear. "Yeah?"

He stepped towards her, excruciatingly slow. She breathed with unusual deliberation.

He hovered above her. She didn't dare look away.

"Veronica."

_Only he could make repetition sound sexy._

"Yeah?" She challenged, less bite in her voice than the last time.

His face dipped down as his hands simultaneously framed her neck, his thumbs pressed against the edge of her cheeks. His voice was soft, gentle. "I've _always_ wanted you."

And his lips found hers.

Overwhelmed by the familiar taste of his mouth, she closed her eyes and succumbed entirely. Her hands instinctively snaked under her arms and up his shoulder blades, bracing herself on his shoulders to haul herself higher and closer. His palms, large and comforting, covered her entire back and pulled her tightly against his torso. Her heart raced, dashed, flew - warped into hyperspeed. Her lips claimed his again, and again, and again.

_This. Right._

Every inch of her body burned electric as their kisses pushed deeper, fiercer. The room shrunk suffocatingly small as oxygen felt shorter and shorter in supply. His right hand still pressed warmly against her back, his left wandered down to her hip and jerked her firmly against his own pelvis. She literally whimpered.

His mouth left her lips then, shifting towards the back of her ear and down her neck in a trail of hot, wet, open kisses. She gasped as his mouth found _that_ spot at the exact moment his right fingers brushed the side of her breasts.

"Oh, Logan!" His name fell off her tongue as she arched into him, eyes closed, lost in sensual overload.

_How does he always -_

"Veronica," he whispered back, now kissing back up to her mouth.

She turned her face down to capture his lips sooner than he'd anticipated. The approving groan from his being caught by surprise doubled her shivers. A dozen kisses later, she's the one to venture away from his mouth and up the trail of his stubble.

"Oh, Veronica." His voice was hoarse, deep, and ridiculously sexy.

She responded with a nibble of his ear. He groaned, she whispered, "You want me?"

He gripped her even more tightly than she could ever remember him doing. "Always. Always. Always."

Her eyes flooded as she swallowed the lump in her throat. Tucked neck-against-neck in their passionate hug, she glanced up at the ceiling, forbidding her tears to flow. "Logan, I - "

"Never even ask that, okay?"

Her body shivered 'yes' before her head could.

_This. Right._

"Logan, I - "

"Shhh," he hushed her, still crushing her uncompromisingly close against himself. "Don't ever say I don't want you."

She blinked even faster. "I didn't say - "

"Poor Veronica," he continued. "My poor, sweet - "

_What?_

The events of the afternoon sift through her mind like rapid fire.

_No, no, no way._

"What?" Fueled by indignation, she forced her way out of his arms.

_Poor Veronica? Seriously?_

Without much space to back into behind her, she violently shoved him away instead. "How dare you!"

He stumbled one step back and looked - confused. "What the heck? What's wrong, Vee?"

"Me? What's wrong with _me_?" She shrieked, arms shaking at her sides.

_Don't cry. Don't give him that satisfaction._

She inhaled, utterly chagrinned. "You think I need you, Logan? You think I need to be your charity case hook-up after that debacle of a bachelorette party?"

"What on earth are you talking about!" He ran both hands through his hair.

_And looks incredibly sexy doing so - darn it!_

She shook her head violently from side to side. "Don't you play dumb, Logan. I saw those bridesmaids texting their boyfriends the moment I admitted it this afternoon."

"Admitted what?" He strode closer, brow furrowed, and - to his credit - kept his hands to himself.

She exhaled, lungs and eyes burning. "Sure, you don't know."

"I really don't, Veronica." His voice sounded genuinely pleading.

_Fine, let's pretend you don't._

She huffed, furious at herself, at him, at life. "Parker confronted me today about the - sex tape."

He hovered close but listened quietly.

"In front of everyone." She deemed it acceptable to continue. "And I was cornered into acknowledging that - that Piz and I never actually - well, never actually got around to having sex."

He nodded a very small, careful nod.

_He's smarter when he's shocked sober._

She rolled her eyes.

"So yeah - there you have it. The most sexually timid of all my boyfriends didn't even want me." She inhaled sharply and exhaled slowly. "And I'm supposed to believe that you - Logan Echolls, trophy wife boy-toy, celebrity offspring - is supposed to want me for real?"

Their eyes met.

"I should've known better than to believe it."

And just like that, his gaze sunk from vulnerable to completely stone cold.

_I could care less._

She licked her lips nervously, arms folded protectively before her.

"I've wanted you." His voice, soft yet terse, cut through the standstill. She looked up. "Always have, always will."

She felt almost tempted to soften her stance.

"But if you're not ever gonna believe me," he continued, "then there's no more point trying."

And like a puppy kicked to the curb, all six feet of Logan Echolls sighed and slipped out to the balcony.

* * *

_"No one is perfect, Veronica, and it's about time you accept that."_

She pulled her knees closer up against her chin. She closed her eyes, rocking herself forwards and backwards in tiny increments on the worn seat cushion.

_"It's as if you're in love with someone who doesn't exist!"_

She gasped, still resolutely keeping her eyes shut.

_"No, wait - what I mean is - "_

_Just shut up, Leo!_

She threw her head back, a stray tear rolling down her right cheek. She bit her lip. Insensitive Parker, haunting Madison, crazy Angela, drunk Logan - hadn't she had enough?

_And then there's Leo._

She shoved her fingers violently into her hair, ready to uproot them from sheer frustration. Why couldn't the universe give her a break?

Veronica sighed - loud and long. She never did want to come to this ridiculous wedding. But who could've thought it would be _this_ bad?

She mentally recounted the events of the day - from awkward breakfast exchanges to college voyeurism rehash to hot make-out session to screaming each other's heads off _again_. She shook her head and scoffed.

_And that's not the end of it yet._

She groaned. There's still that little problem about a big, hot, and single ex-boyfriend having his personal standoff on her balcony right now.

She let go of her knees, letting her legs slide down until her toes brushed against the dark brown carpet. She lounged helplessly on the painted chair. She groaned again.

_Could he really blame me?_

When your high school boyfriend's a kid who's been having more sex than a college frat boy, was it so wrong to expect him to want you as much as you want him? Was it so wrong to feel hurt that he didn't?

She closed her eyes, refusing to go down the rabbit hole.

And was it so wrong to call him out for being who he was?

_"You don't really know how to love, Veronica."_

She set her jaw.

_Shut up, Leo._

Her shoulders shivered at the draft from the slightly-open balcony door.

" _It's as if you're in love with someone who doesn't exist!"_

"I said, 'Shut up!'" She stormed to her feet, awakened neighbors be damned. The sound of her feet hitting the ground sounded almost deafening to her ears. She stood still, chest heaving.

And then all was quiet.

Until the tears came.

Against her much-preferred calm, the sobs rushed forward like serial tidal waves, attacking her one after another.

_Leo was wrong, Veronica._

She closed her eyes, hands clutched to her chest.

_Don't believe him. He's wrong._

She fought hard to swallow each sob - succeeding half the time.

_He's wrong! He's wrong! He's -_

She collapsed on the floor, almost completely broken.

She breathed - hard - and shut her eyes.

_Even the crickets have gone to bed._

For two excruciating minutes, she fought the sobs until they subsided.

"Hey."

She looked up, eyes hopelessly puffy. The broad male shoulders hunched over the balcony railing two minutes ago were now hovering over her.

"I'm sorry for walking out like that. Uhm - could we talk?"

_Actually, I'd prefer a far less verbal activity._

She looked hard and long at the hand he'd extended - until it hit her.

_Would you look at that, Veronica, a romantic epiphany all your own - so proud of you._

She sighed away the sarcasm in her mind. She looked up. There's the hand - still open.

Her eyes trailed the hand to the arm to the face.

_Leo was wrong._

Still shivering from sobbing aftershocks, she let him help her up.

Then she looked him in the eye.

_Leo was wrong._

She swallowed away the lump in her throat.

_Leo was wrong - he does exist._

"You okay?" Logan asked quietly.

_But Leo was right - that someone wasn't perfect either._

She nodded, somehow expecting him to see her in the dark.

_Leo's wrong - but Leo's right._

She watched Logan let go of her hand to walk backwards on to the bed. He sat down slowly at the edge.

But isn't that what Leo always was?

He's always the _almost right_ \- who points her to the _actual right_.

* * *

"You wanted to talk?"

She stole a glance at Logan - head hung as he teetered on the edge of the bed. She shifted further back into the seat cushion.

He looked up, gaze heavy. "Could we?"

_Asking permission equals absolving blame._

She grunted, outsmarted before she even tried. "Sure."

"Look, Veronica, I - " He closed his eyes for two seconds before the dive. "I meant it when I said I've always wanted you."

"Yeah?"

_Who knew one word could be so hard to keep level?_

"I did," he reiterated, his fingers clenched and then unclenched. "And that - that never changed, okay?"

She stayed silent.

_Go on._

"When we first started - well, dating," he continued, eyes on the carpet. "I already wanted you, okay? I just - I've always associated sex with - with being wanted. It's sick - but, well, it's affirming, you know?"

_Don't combust, Veronica._

"Okay," She offered tentatively.

"So uhm - I didn't have to want those women, as long as they wanted me."

_Do not combust._

"So you're right," he continued. She looked up. "I guess I really was a man whore."

_Did he just agree with me?_

"Go on," she whispered, hands clenching her sweatpants.

He nodded. "But when I was with you - I wanted it, but I didn't want you to think I _needed_ it."

She furrowed her brow.

"I mean - I didn't want to pressure you into thinking that I wanted you for that. Because - I wanted you for you."

"Okay?"

"I just - " He stuttered, hands braced beside himself on the edge of the bed. "I didn't know if you - were ready."

"I was," she blurted, short and simple. She looked straight at him. "Did you really think I wasn't?"

"You were," he echoed, nodding his head as if it were only sinking in now. "I guess I knew that. I mean, deep down, I did."

"But?"

He looked at her now, eyes glistening. "But I mean - even if I knew, I loved you enough to not force you to prove it. I - "

"Sex doesn't really prove anything, Logan." The clarity in her voice surprised both of them.

They looked at each other, suddenly calm.

"You told me as much, didn't you?" She spoke up first.

He hung his head again. "Looking back now. It's - I didn't want to make you think I was using you, Veronica. God knows how much I wanted you every time things got too hot in the backseat. But our first time" - he paused, eyes and voice pained - "it was supposed to be perfect."

She couldn't help the tear that rolled down her cheek, the ridiculousness of the situation dawning on her.

Because _this -_ these ungrounded insecurities and hang-ups of two teenagers utterly in love - that's what made Duncan her first.

_When it should've been you._

Eyes fixed on Logan, she slipped off the chair and stepped right in front of him, carried by a strange sense of serene courage. With him leaning and her standing, they were just about the same height.

_Come on, Veronica._

She breathed in slowly. He looked up.

She smiled. "But it was."

His pupils shrunk as her words sunk in.

"Veronica - "

"Logan," she stopped him, right thumb pressed against his lips. Gently, she slid both hands on the junctures between his neck and shoulders. "It's okay."

His lips quivered. She stopped them with hers.

She kissed him softly, fingertips grazing. He kissed her back just as tenderly. In the airy silence of the night, they let their kisses speak. For the first time since forever, time felt more gentle than cruel.

Two dozen tranquil kisses later, he pulled back first. She pressed her forehead firmly against his.

She smiled. "Oh, Logan, I - "

"Thank you," he interrupted.

_Wait, what?_

"Thanks for letting us - move on." He whispered, voice as soft and low as his kisses.

"Right." She shrunk back a tad. "Move on."

He nodded slightly, panting disproportionately hard to their mild make-out. "I, uhm - I guess I'll take the carpet. Thanks for letting me barge in again."

"Wait - " Her hands stayed him by the shoulders. His gaze averted hers. "We - we can share the bed. I mean - "

_What do I mean?_

"We don't have to _do_ anything. It's just that I - "

"I don't trust myself _not_ to do anything, Veronica."

She refused to let him hear the hitch in her breath.

_How do you reply to that?_

"But I'm also not the male slut who attends a wedding to sleep with the bridesmaid - anymore."

_Should I be slapping him - or myself?_

She exhaled and finally stepped back, hands dropping. "Goodnight, Logan."

"Goodnight, Veronica."


	4. The Fact That I've Imagined

"So - late night?" Mac slid over a cup of house brew, armed with a wink.

_Seriously?_

Veronica groaned, shoving the next piece of bacon unceremoniously down her throat. She rubbed some sleep off the corner of her eye before the eye rolls commenced. Then, she squeezed her eyes shut in momentary thrill.

_Who invented bacon? Nobel Prize winner right there._

She lifted her eyelids and carried on.

"What? Should I just think it's perfectly normal that your epic, surfer ex-boyfriend was sighted leaving your room this morning?" Mac leaned an elbow on the small round table. Her eyes were twinkly enough to punch. "I'm not letting this go, Veronica."

_Not falling for this._

She gulped down half a glass of milk, eyes resolutely fixed on the off-white doily playing centerpiece on the table.

"Ignoring me isn't going to undo the facts, you know." Mac leaned further against the table, eyes mischievous.

_Whatever._

"Nothing's changed in the last ten minutes, Mac. I told you - nothing happened."

"Nothing being a code for something?"

Veronica grunted at her persistence.

_That's why she's still your friend, buddy._

She relented a smidgeon. "Angela kicked him out of his room when she marched out on Brandon. He had nowhere else to go."

"Except for the open arms of the love of his life?"

_That's it._

Veronica's hand hit the table the some moment she hoarsely whispered, "Mac, I don't see the benefit of pursuing this."

"Other than forcing you to confront those sizzling undercurrents, sure." The programmer crossed her arms, every inch a boss.

"What undercurrents - what?" The blonde scoffed, mouth wide open. Neighboring tables rustled. She forced her voice down. "I repeat - _nothing happened_."

"No stolen kisses? No hot breathing in opportune places?"

"Mac!" She shoved herself away from the table and off her chair. "What good is this even gonna do?"

Mac's hands instantly found Veronica's shoulders, and their eyes each other's. Mac's voice was hushed, sincere. "I'm not saying it's good. But I _know_ there won't be any good happening until you guys sort this out. You know?"

_Well, I can't contest that, can I?_

* * *

Because how exactly could one say, 'I don't even know if he remembered it'?

She sighed - chest heavy, arms folded, and legs crossed - as she watched the cotillion participants file into the empty ballroom. A few yards away to her left, two teenage bridal cousins pulled giant pink ribbons into clumsy bows on the backs of all the clumped-together chairs. Indistinct mumbling echoed from the clusters of family members. She caught glances her way upon occasion.

_Cuz nothing gets you famous faster than the title 'crazy ex-girlfriend.'_

She groaned under her breath as she re-adjusted herself on the linen-cloaked chair, determined to appear unaffected - not by lack of sleep, not by gossiping guests, and definitely not by the number of ridiculously hot Logan Echolls kisses within the past forty-eight hours.

_And nor am I affected at the thought of dancing with him again ten minutes from now._

Her spidey law school senses shut off at the complicated preoccupation of making sure she appeared at ease, and she didn't catch the bride's emphatic entrance until the couple of the hour stood preening before her.

"Veronica!" Parker once again showcased her innate ability to interpret every word as a squeal, fingers on collarbone and all. "You are _so_ early today. That's just wonderful!"

_For avoiding our hot ex-boyfriend when emotionally vulnerable? Sure is._

She displayed her most polite smile.

_I'm getting good at this._

"It's rude to keep the bride waiting, after all," she spoke cordially, standing up. If she were any more into character, she would've curtsied.

"Right, now that would be just _plain rude_." Parker actually flicked her wrist.

_Sinkhole, now would be the time._

"So anyway," the bride continued, right hand anchored possessively in Piz's elbow. "Hoover _finally_ arrived an hour ago. I'm sorry you've had to practice without him. But hey! You're Veronica Mars. You can do anything, right? Cuz you're like, uhm, _so awesome_."

_Say, what?_

Veronica grinned and frowned simultaneously. "Uhm, Hoover?"

"My cousin," Piz finally spoke up, still flipping his hair like 1975. He stepped back to give her visual access of the open door. She took in the taller, cleaner version of Piz striding straight towards them. "Hoover, meet Veronica, your cotillion and entourage partner. Veronica, Hoover."

"Hi, nice to meet you." Veronica extended her hand, every bit professional as the new guest caught up to them.

"And my honor to meet you," he responded with a firm, clean grip and a polished smile of his own.

_Guess girly handshakes aren't genetic._

"So we should _totally_ start now!" Parker re-commenced the squealing. She hip-checked Veronica, nudging her closer to Hoover. "Hoover's done this before for Angela's wedding. So you two should do _just perfect!_ "

And off she went to rally the rest.

Before Veronica could manage to fully latch on to what's unfolding, the musical intro reverberated against the walls and windows.

"Alright! One, two, three - four, five, six!" Parker's soprano instructed over the music. And Veronica found Hoover's clasp on her waist and hand instantly established.

For the next few measures, her muscle memory took over, and they effortlessly kept pace with every other couple on the wooden floor.

He stepped back for the first twirl; she properly obliged. But when she spun back to face her partner, he gripped her much closer than when they'd first begun.

_Personal space, hello?_

"So, Hoover, huh?" She pulled back at the next turn, re-defining some boundaries. "It's - good to see you made it."

"Couldn't be happier." He pulled her along in step to the music. Piznarskis did know their tempo. "You're even more enchanting in person."

_In person?_

"You've heard about me?" She re-contemplated his barber's cut hair, grey eyes, high nose, square jaw, and broad shoulders.

"I've seen pictures," he replied, still gliding her effortless in time to the choreography. Then he suddenly leaned in. "Between you and me, Stosh was rather proud of convincing you to date him back in the day."

She was almost tempted to smile. They danced wordlessly for another verse. Then came the successive, compulsive twirling.

"You're quite light on your feet," Hoover stated, reeling her back in from yet another twirl, both of them facing forward. "You dance a lot?"

"You know I can tell you're lying." She rolled her eyes before realizing he probably couldn't see them.

"Beautiful _and_ perceptive," he noted casually, twirling her back to face him. "Aren't I lucky?"

"To dance with me?"

"And maybe share a dinner table after this? There's not much more time to get acquainted between the rehearsal dinner and the wedding." He smiled at her, simple and sincere.

_And why not?_

"Sure," she answered with a shrug. "Not like I have any other plans."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"Not at the moment."

_By no choice of mine._

"Ah, very well," he continued, obviously pleased. He dipped her slightly at the prescribed point in the song. "Guess I should stay close then. Cuz there's a guy looking far too ready to pounce on you right at this moment."

Her mind spun just as her body did yet another twirl. She wanted to groan - even the dance steps were too girly.

_But wait - what did he just say?_

"Wait, uhm - Hoover, right? What did you just say?"

"That guy." He turned her just in time for her to see a very brooding Logan leaning against the wall beside the door. Arms locked, his body looked tense yet tired. His face was leaning forward, his eyes trained on her dancing form.

She almost forgot to breathe.

Hoover surprised her with the final big dip of the choreographed finale. She clutched at his arm for balance.

"Sorry," she apologized as he pulled her back on her feet. She scrambled to recover from her flustered breathing, now doubly unstable from the physical sensation of being dipped.

_Whoever declared that dizzying move to be romantic anyway?_

"No problem." He helped her recover to the proper tempo. "I know that was totally creepy."

"Creepy?" Mind still a scrambled mess, she barely registered the end of the music two measures later. Her hands blindly followed the other couples' mild applause. Her eyes fluttered back to Logan. He met her gaze.

She stood, glued to her spot, hands paused mid-applause like a child confused.

Then again, maybe she'd never really been better off than a child confused when it came to her feelings for him.

Two seconds later, Logan pulled up straight, nodded at her with a grim smile, and slipped out the door.

"Yeah, like a total stalker." Hoover's voice jolted her back to the present.

Veronica turned, nerves still humming. "Stalker?"

"He came into the room once we started dancing," Hoover explained, hands shoved into his beige coat pockets. "Been staring at you the whole time."

_No, no, no - no teary eyes allowed right now, Veronica. No, no, no!_

"I mean, like, why would a random guest stare at a bridesmaid like that, you know? So inappropriate."

_'I'm not the male slut who attends a wedding to sleep with the bridesmaid - anymore.'_

Logan's words shouted at her brain.

"I mean, do you even know him?" Hoover hovered in the background.

_And if I'm just a bridesmaid to him - why should I make him to be anything more than a fellow guest to me?_

"It doesn't matter," she blurted, eyes stinging. She looked at Hoover and his all-American wholesomeness. She smiled. "I'm gonna go change. See you at dinner."

And she scurried out of the room.

* * *

"So I asked them if they would give me a chance. Stosh said they would never allow it; I insisted they would. And what do you know?" Hoover smiled with unwarranted confidence. "I was right."

"Cool," Veronica mustered at the end of yet another pointless story. Whoever taught this guy to flirt had no idea what he was doing.

She almost scoffed.

_But of course, when it came to flirting -_

"So you want another drink?" Hoover interrupted her thoughts.

She felt her cheeks grow warm at where her thoughts had clearly been headed.

_Pathetic, thy name is Veronica._

"Sure," she mumbled, hands wringing on her lap.

_Cuz free drinks - why not?_

She shrugged as Hoover strode away, broad shoulders tilted to the right.

"Ah, free seat, who'd have thought?"

Mr. Surfer Echolls deposited himself squarely on the seat beside her. She inhaled, deep, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Working to get yourself invited to the next Piznarski wedding already? You know the bride doesn't get an invitation."

Now, _that_ was too much.

"What's your deal, Logan?" She whipped around to face him, eyes squinting, voice snapping, "Is acting like a jackass officially part of the-day-after routine now?"

He held her gaze for two seconds before diverting to the empty glass in his hand. "You know me, always ready to meet expectations."

"Well, I'm _very_ obliged."

"Be my guest." He gestured at the seat across from him. She turned around to see Hoover returning to their table, goofy grin and all. She could just _feel_ Logan's eye roll.

"Here you go." Hoover casually placed the Mimosa to Veronica's right and himself on the corresponding chair. He smiled at her for a moment before looking at their new table buddy. His eyes darkened in recognition. "Are you - sitting here?"

"Says my table card." Logan lifted said card with two fingers, not skipping a beat. He twirled it with a flourish before dropping it on the tablecloth. "Apparently, the three people who decided to attend this darn wedding alone have to sit together - pair the spares - classic, I suppose."

Caught mid-drink by his comment, she almost spilled cocktail all over her dark blue top. Pair the spares? Just ask the bride and groom.

The small smile on her lips lingered for just a moment before it gave way to something much closer to a scowl.

_Since when have I turned from part of the pair - to a spare?_

She frowned and gulped down half of her drink. In her peripheral vision, she caught Logan's questioning glance.

_Yes, ever since you disappeared, idiot._

She inhaled deep, and then exhaled slowly. She may have been the one to rush off to a summer program on the other side of the country, but he could've at least been waiting for her when she came back - right?

She blinked fast, fleetingly remembering all the secret fantasies she'd harbored that summer. She had plenty in her rotation, from his magically appearing at her Virginia dorm room door to a banner and a goofy grin at the cozy Neptune airport. Of course, none of them happened.

Lost in contemplation, she's jerked back to reality by the light rattling of the silverware as Hoover stood to offer Logan his hand.

She looked up at the two men flanking her.

"Hoover Piznarski. I don't think I caught your name?"

"Logan Echolls." He shook the groomsman's hand, firm and steady. Both sat back down. "I see you finally made it here."

"Wouldn't miss it. Stosh is like a brother to me, you know."

Eyebrows flew up, but Logan wisely responded merely with a nod.

"So - what do you do for work?"

Veronica almost rolled her eyes at Hoover's inability to keep quiet.

_But I always liked that about Logan._

She bit down on her lip to punish her mind.

"I'm a surfer, actually," Logan replied with perfect PR suave. He chuckled at Hoover's disapproving glare. "The professional kind."

"Right."

"Yes, right." Logan could barely contain his smugness.

_And for some reason, I like it._

Logan hailed down a waiter for a glass of champagne. He looked at her; she nodded. He grabbed an extra.

Hoover clearing his throat in response was almost comedic. "So, uhm, Veronica here is studying to be a lawyer."

"Oh, really? She must be very smart," Logan played along.

_Disappear to the bathroom or stay for the show?_

She leaned back slightly.

_Easy choice._

"Ingenious, more like it." Hoover reached over to place his left hand on the back of her chair. "Stanford isn't your everyday school."

"Right." Logan smacked his forehead dramatically. "The things they don't tell you at community college."

Hoover's smug grin almost had her chuckling.

"So, how are you related to the bride?"

The guy's incorrigible.

Logan shrugged. "Beats me. I was quite surprised to get the invitation, actually."

"You guys aren't close?"

"Haven't heard from her since I left Hearst."

"Ah, you guys classmates?"

"Hardly." The word emerged more like a growl. Veronica exhaled.

"So how do you know her? Cuz, I mean, I'm super tight with Stosh, and he's never mentioned you."

_Cuz we all prefer stories where we end up the hero._

Logan scoffed and sipped his glass. "I'm surprised. I always thought it was part of protocol to tell one's cousin that one invited one's ex-girlfriend's ex-boyfriend to the wedding."

At Hoover's confused look, both Neptune High alumni groaned and sulked into much darker moods.

The silence carried on for another minute until polite 'thank you' murmurs followed the serving of their first dish. The trio ate in silence - for three seconds.

"This salad is spectacular. Veronica, you like this, right?" Hoover leaned over.

"Yeah." She shrugged, before attacking the next piece of arugula.

"Veronica is a wonderful dancer," Hoover continued, eyes alternating between her and Logan. "She's light on her feet."

"Yes, petite women usually are," Logan replied, just as engrossed with his food.

"Veronica is from Neptune. I've been there, you know? Have you?"

It took all her willpower to refrain from stabbing the hand on the table instead of the lettuce.

"Yes, I went to Hearst." Came Logan's curt reply.

_Serves you right, Hoove._

"Veronica is one of the bridesmaids, and I'm her partner." Hoover tattled on. He placed his hand on her chair again; she sat up higher. "We had fun practicing with each other this afternoon."

A frown colored Logan's face. "Right, I'm sure you did."

_No, Lo, we didn't -_

"Veronica - "

"I get it. You know my name," she snapped, drawing both men's attentions. "Could we stop the 'I Know Veronica Mars' game now?"

She could hear Logan smirking behind her. Hoover shrugged. "Veronica Mars, huh? That's a nice last name. Were your ancestors like astronauts or - "

"Give it up, buster." She could care less how her voice sounded. "I am _not_ doing this."

"Doing what?"

That honest bewilderment in his eyes - couldn't be real, could it?

"I dunno - ineptly flirting - pissing contest - whatever it is you're trying to do?" She fought hard to keep her voice level, fingers moving in the air in grand frustration. Nearby tables began to shuffle.

"Right - because there's nothing Veronica Mars likes more than having multiple men pouring their hearts out for her simultaneously."

She whipped around instantly, lungs pumped full. Her eyes stung.

_He did not -_

"She's all yours, Hoover." Logan shrugged, eyes darting all over the room before settling down on his lap. "She never picks me anyway."

The next rebuttal died on her lips.

"And who knows?" Logan continued with a huff. He looked up at Hoover. "She might even install a video camera in your room. These things go viral."

A clean, sharp slap landed right across Logan's cheek, and she bulldozed all her fiery emotions out of the room.

* * *

"Veronica!"

She stomped faster round the corner.

"Veronica! Wait!"

She could hear his large steps approaching, fast.

_Stilettos_ _are so sexist._

"Veronica! I'm sorry!"

She scoffed, slowing just a tad, but marched resolutely into the lobby. Her eyes lingered for a second on the spot where he'd greeted her so enthusiastically just two days ago.

"Veronica!" His hand caught her arm, right above the elbow. She offered a futile pull forward. They both stopped, breaths heavy.

"Ma'am?"

She glanced towards the tall, lanky receptionist. The boy's hand, with sleeves two inches too short, hovered over the bell. His face looked frightened, confused.

She sighed.

"We're fine." She gave him an upward nod. He promptly disappeared.

"Veronica."

She sighed again.

_Now this boy's harder._

Slowly, she shifted around to face him.

"Yes?" She seethed, chest still heaving.

_And no, pardon the cliche, that's just dust in my eyes._

She blinked - very, very fast.

"I'm sorry, okay?" His eyes looked almost glassy, gazing down at hers. His hand stayed firmly on her arm. "I - I don't know why I said that. It's too much, I know."

_Too much?_

"What gives, Lo?" She pulled away from his hand and moved back a step. He didn't close the gap. "You crash into my room in the middle of the night, make promises and confessions, and passionately disavows being _that_ guy anymore. And then?"

Her palms flew up with a shrug. She shook her head and scoffed before dropping them again. "And then forget all about it and revert to Mr. OPJ the very next day?"

A confused expression took over the guilt on his face. "OPJ?"

"Obligatory Psy - uhm, it's a thing that I say that - ugh, whatever." She folded her arms across her chest. "Why did you revert back to someone - someone totally screwed up?"

"Yes, I know." He stepped slightly closer, shoulders tense. "I'm sorry. I - I shouldn't have said that."

_More like never ever should've._

She exhaled, still blinking. For a moment, she considered asking if he even remembered their make-out sessions last night.

"You left my room this morning, you know." She opted for facts.

He paused before nodding. "Yeah - sorry for not telling you."

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter."

"It - it was late already, and I didn't want anyone to see me. So I - "

"It's fine, really." She huffed, locking her arms even tighter. "I didn't expect you to - "

"I meant it, you know."

She met his gaze, unsure. "Meant what?"

"Everything I said last night - every word, every moment. I remember." He stepped closer. She suddenly stopped breathing. "I remember explaining, I remember crying. I remember kissing, I - "

He sighed and looked upwards. She envied, for a quick moment, the rusty chandelier.

"You what?"

He turned back down towards her, eyes charged with a thousand emotions. She stilled, her arms pulling apart of their own accord.

He caught her hands before they reached her side. His hands felt warm.

"I love you, Veronica. And I want you."

The room disappeared, every last inch of it.

"I always did." He leaned forward, forehead hovering over hers. "And I always will."

She breathed in small, shallow spurts. His eyes distracted her; his breath mesmerized.

_But -_

"But if you really meant it - meant it all," she spoke cautiously, softly. "Why ignore me today? Why joke about - "

He let out a very choked laugh and pulled back, his hands still gripping hers. She fought the urge to draw close.

"I - I'm sorry, Veronica. I just - I didn't know if you wanted me to remember."

She looked at him, quiet.

"It was a joke, okay?" He let go of her hands to run his fingers through his hair. His right hand lingered behind his neck before folding back down. "I didn't know if you wanted all that talking last night to even count, and I - I wanted to gauge your reactions through humor instead. And I - "

" _That_ was supposed to be a joke?" She scoffed, incredulous. "Oh yeah, I almost forgot your sense of humor there for a moment. This is the guy who thought telling everyone I had STD's was being funny junior year."

"No, I mean - "

"What?" She narrowed her eyes.

He held her gaze for a very, very long time. Then he sighed.

"Look, Veronica - sometimes" - he paused and looked down - "sometimes cruel jokes are the only way I know of that would allow me to even bring up the things and people that matter most to me."

Her walls cracked.

"People like you."

Then they crumbled.

She could've sworn the lobby had melted into an impressionistic blur.

"Logan - "

"I told you I love you." He took her hands again. "And I always - "

"There you are!" The high voice caught them by surprise.

They both pulled away, hands instantly overcompensating by diving into pockets and re-arranging hair.

"Come back in!" Angela prodded. She nudged Logan's arm. "Papa's making a speech."

They barely shared a single look before she pulled him away.

* * *

Candlelight flickered from every table as couples swayed to the rhythm of the slow crooning. After a long, emotional speech by Parker's father, family and friends alike had crowded the stage with hugs and tears. Guess it made sense for slow dancing to follow. Everyone was up already anyway.

And watching passively from her table was Veronica Mars.

"So close, together, and when I'm with you - "

Hoover's voice sounded every bit as affected as she'd imagined it would be, gliding over the lyrics of the Disney ballad.

_Because, of course, Parker wants to be a prin -_

She stilled her thoughts at the sight of the bride in Piz's arms, hands pressed into his back as she leaned her cheek tenderly against his. Eyes closed and lips curled upwards, he looked - happy; and with her own blissful smile, she looked irrefutably content.

Veronica sighed, eyes annoyingly moist.

Compared to the screaming, broken Parker in Hearst so many years ago - this one was a survivor who found exactly what she wanted.

_And who am I to begrudge her for that?_

"You okay?"

She turned at Logan's voice. Still seated next to her, he reached over to place his right hand lightly over her left. His words broke the silence from the past half hour.

"Veronica?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," she replied, rather lost for words.

_I've never been the talker._

Leaving her fingers under his, she returned her gaze to the dancing couples. With Angela, Mac, Rose, Michelle, and Evelyn all dancing happily with their men, she was the only bridesmaid still seated.

_"I'm not the male slut who attends a wedding to sleep with the bridesmaid - anymore."_

She inhaled sharply at the unbidden echo in her mind. She closed her eyes.

_"Goodnight, Veronica."_

Unwarranted moisture taunted at her tear ducts. She knew she shouldn't believe it, but -

"Excuse me, sir." A squeaking teenaged voice emerged behind her. She felt Logan's hand leave hers as she turned around. "Mrs. Carlton has arranged to return to her room tonight. I've already had someone re-make your room. Here's your key, sir."

The metal key's landing sound on the table felt as heavy as her heart.

"Thanks," Logan promptly dismissed the kid.

_Guess I don't get a roommate tonight._

Her eyes sting at the realization that she actually _wanted_ one - a particular one sitting right next to her this very moment.

She opened her mouth to speak.

"I'm gonna go - get cleaned up," he beat her to it, pushing up from his seat as he spoke. "I - uhm, I'll see you tomorrow?"

Running on emotional autopilot, she nodded.

He disappeared into the hallway.

"Oh how could I face the faceless days, if I should lose you now?"

The lyrics in the music hit her - hard.

_How could I indeed?_

But judging from his reactions just now -

_"She never picks me anyway."_

She inhaled.

_"Sometimes cruel jokes are the only way I know of that would allow me to even bring up the things and people that matter most to me."_

She looked up.

_"People like you."_

With sudden energy coursing through her every vein, she promptly pried herself off her chair and dashed into the hallway.

"Logan, wait!"

He'd had his turns chasing her.

"Logan!"

Now it was her turn.

"Wait, don't - "

She caught up to him just as he turned around, and suddenly - there was nothing left between them.

Lips, teeth, tongues crashed together and hands roamed freely, her limbs already scaling his towering frame. He leaned back to accommodate her weight before spinning her promptly against the wall. Hot breath alternated with warm, wet, open-mouth kisses as his lips trailed down her jaw to her collar. Her eyelids shut of their own accord, every other sense overwhelmed by his touch, scent, taste, and moans. Her arms anchored around his shoulders, her fingers in his hair.

"Veronica," he gasped against her ear, the hands on her waist and hips gripping tighter.

"Logan," she whimpered back before their lips met again.

Again, again, and again, he kissed her; again, again, and again, she kissed him back.

And it wasn't like that first kiss two days ago, with surprise and tension galore. It wasn't like last night, when their lips were merely communicating their common pain.

This was - different.

Her teeth latched on to the juncture between his neck and shoulder.

"Oh, Bobcat," he hissed instantly in response, his words sending a bolt of electricity from her lips directly to the hungry warmth between her thighs.

Her legs gripped around him tighter, her fingers wandering down the front of his shirt.

They were three buttons gone by the time they reached her bedroom door. And by the time her bare back hit the duvet, there was not a single item left on anybody's torso.

She moaned with abandon as his mouth found her nipples, while his hands busied themselves with her jeans.

_I never was one to dress up._

She almost snickered at the thought. So many times, she had mapped out this moment in her mind. From romantic dinners in gorgeous dresses to beach bikini encounters to just making out at his Neptune Grand suite - she had plenty of versions for this.

She glanced down at the image of Logan dropping the last of his clothes. Then she stared down at her own worn cotton panties.

Then she grinned.

"What?" He panted, crawling forward till he hovered over her.

"Just, this - " she huffed, breath already too short, with the act still ahead of them. "This isn't exactly what I've imagined our reunion to be like."

He lifted an eyebrow above her, gaze still just as intense.

"But maybe," she continued, a smile growing across her face in revelatory gladness, "maybe the fact that I've imagined it at all should make-up for itself?"

The way he attacked her mouth, and the way he slid deep inside of her, were all the answers she needed.

This was different. This was something better, something more.

* * *

"Oh, yes, baby! Yes, yes!"

"Hang on, almost there."

"Keep going, ooh, ah, yes!"

She felt Logan's eyebrow climbing up even before she turned her head to look at him. He smiled at her benevolently before planting a kiss against her temple. Her naked body leaned back against his, the comforter lying loosely on top of their collective clump of limbs.

"Are they always this loud?"

"You don't hear them?"

"I do - but not like this."

Another gasp echoed off the wall and down their headboard.

"Gosh, these walls are built-in amplifiers."

She chuckled, securing his hands more tightly around her waist. Cuddling could be good too. "Solid matter does conduct sound better than gas or liquid."

"Ever the nerd." He kissed the side of her nose affectionately. "You always have to know more, don't you?"

"Not when it comes to arithmetic."

He pulled away slightly to look at her, openly puzzled. "Arithmetic? As in, math?"

"What? Can't tutor me tonight?"

"I'd love to, but I'm more a literature kind of guy."

"Too bad then." She shifted around fully until she straddled him. His eyes widened in obvious approval. "Needed your help keeping track."

She leaned forward to kiss him, full and firm.

"Keep track of what?" He whispered back, voice hoarse, as her lips trailed away.

She sucked the side of his neck, letting go with a loud smack. "What round is this again? Two? Three? Or Five?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter should hopefully be up before March :) Thank you to everyone who's trudging through this angst-fest with me. Lots of love to irma66 for being a wonderful beta and friend. Please leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you! :)


	5. A Little Bit of Crazy

She woke up to the soft banging of a loose balcony door against the railing. The crisp autumn air tickled her cheeks.

Her body, however - anchored firmly by a very strong arm against a very muscled torso - stayed blissfully warm.

She grinned when his stubbled chin grazed her neck.

_I've missed this - way too much._

"You know I didn't mean that to be a one-time thing, right?"

She was sorely tempted to prolong her silence; the jerk deserved it.

He nudged her shoulder gently with kisses, and she twisted around to face him. The shy smile he offered was more than she had bargained for.

_Because underneath all that jackassery, he's still just a lonely little boy looking for love._

"Veronica?"

She met his eyes, this time returning his smile with one of her own. She nuzzled the palm he had on her cheek. "Not a one-time thing? I could've sworn my last count was three."

His laughter was genuine - bright and happy. And he pulled her right down for one more tally.

* * *

Jazzy runs and bluesy tones blended surprisingly well with the overly draped ballroom interiors as a variety of couples twirled about the dance floor. From weepy parents to sashaying young lovers to beaming groom and bride - the room shifted like a rhythmic kaleidoscope of pastel palettes, silky skirts flaring and wilting boutonnieres shedding random petals all over the dance floor.

On her table, right foot intertwined at the ankles with Logan's left, Veronica smiled.

_Because once in a blue moon, weddings can be cheerful, after all._

Traipsing down the aisle that morning on Hoover's arm had been slightly awkward, dancing with him even more so. But at least the way she and Logan had stumbled into the chapel barely on time - and irrefutably beaming- had discouraged any further questions regarding her current eligibility.

_At least Hoover's smarter than his cousin._

Veronica looked up. A couple of yards away, said cousin was swaying contentedly to the music, new wife cradled tenderly in his arms.

Last night, the couple's dancing had inspired begrudging admiration. Today, it represented something more - something strangely akin to hope.

_Maybe there could be happy endings for broken people, after all._

And suddenly, all the barbs thrown her way over the past three days felt more teasing than ill-meant.

"Hey, beautiful."

She turned at Logan's flirtatious address. He had taken one of her hands in his during the course of her musings, and he now lifted the hand firmly against his lips for a kiss.

It's romantic and it's cheesy and it's pathetically girly.

But even she couldn't ignore the flutter in her belly.

_Just this once, I'll allow it._

In the distant background, she heard a short round of applause at the end of the song.

"Uhm, Veronica?"

They both looked up. Standing close - but not too much so - Hoover leaned forward carefully.

"Yeah?"

"I, uhm," the groomsman continued hesitantly, "could I have the next dance?"

She hadn't even processed the question before Logan stood up, pulling her to her feet to join him. He spoke quickly, firm but not curt, as he snaked one arm around her, "Sorry, buddy. This one's mine."

"Oh, I'm sorry - I didn't realize you already promised someone else the next dance. I, uhm - "

"I don't think he meant the dance, Hoover."

She could almost feel Logan's smile beside her. She mouthed 'sorry' as the young man nodded and walked away.

"What do you think I _did_ mean?" Logan's voice was right next to her ear as soon as they had some privacy.

She grinned. "That you're a protective show-off."

"You know me so well."

* * *

**Two Months Later**

* * *

The sound of ripping paper interrupted the flowing, instrumental movie soundtracks in the luxury downtown apartment. She tried to twist the obstinate card out of the awkwardly opened envelope.

"I'm sure it's not worth the trouble," Logan called over from the recliner by the time she reached her third groan.

"Never thought I'd see the day when I'm more sentimental than you."

His head perked up accordingly at the term 'sentimental.'

_Gotcha._

"Didn't realize your dad likes snail mail now. Mid-life crisis?" He stood up, walked over, and plopped down next to her on the velvet gray sofa.

"Oh shut up, it's from Parker." She finally released the card from its envelope prison.

She huffed dramatically at the effort; he grinned and smooched her cheek.

"You are _way_ too cute, Veronica Mars."

"Cute?" She turned on him, eyes narrowed. "I thought you've learned, Logie-bear."

He laughed and reached to pull her closer.

She promptly pushed him away, naughty grin in place. He lingered as close as she allowed.

_It's nice to be in control._

"Dear Logan and Veronica," she read straight off the card. "'We want to thank you for your attendance and help at our wedding. Your presents and presence made our special day even more special. Sincerely, Mr. and Mrs. Stosh Piznarski.'"

She couldn't help the sarcastic lilt by the time she got to the end.

"You missed something."

"Huh?" She furrowed her brow at him before looking back at the sparkly glitter paper in her hand. He was grinning blatantly, still peeking over her shoulder. She flipped the card over and resumed reading. "'P.S. We are so glad you found each other again. It makes our wedding even more special to know that we brought you two together. Xoxo' - Seriously?!"

She was off the sofa in a minute, throwing down the card as if it were on fire.

" _They_ want the credit?"

His arms found her immediately, anchoring firmly around her waist. "Could you blame them?"

She scoffed and whirled around. " _You're_ okay with this? You're okay with your crazy ex-girlfriend thinking she successfully 'paired the spares'?"

He shrugged, smiled, and pressed his forehead against hers. "I don't really care. After all" - he paused for a quick kiss - "you've never been the spare to me."

_Damn you, Logan Echolls._

"Well, if anyone deserves the credit," she conceded a tad, fingers toying with his collar. "It's gotta be the people who actually kept me awake long enough to actually miss you."

He cocked his head in thought. Then he grinned. "Brangela, huh? You always go for the unconventional."

She tried to smack his arm, but he was holding on to her too tightly. "What? What's wrong with them? At least they're not pink, perfect gooeyness."

Logan laughed, snuggling her face with his nose in the process. "I shouldn't be surprised. Of course you'd rather be the bond-big, fight-big couple. Who needs puffy pastries and princesses?"

"Are you calling me the crazy sister?" She gave her best attempt at vehemence.

_But who could really get angry at those sexy, brown eyes?_

He merely smiled back. "Everyone needs a little bit of crazy in their life. Besides, I still have her to thank for kicking me out of my room and straight into yours."

He pulled her impossibly close. "Aren't I right?"

Her lips curled involuntarily into a genuine smile. "If crazy's what you want, then you got the right girl, Lo."

"Good."

And he promptly proceeded to demonstrate who was _actually_ in control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this closing chapter is so short. It's more of an epilogue than anything. I didn't want to drag on a story without real substance. My heartfelt thanks to everyone who supported this story through kudos, bookmarks, comments, etc. Buckets of thanks to irma66 for being a wonderful beta. Hope you'll all stick around for any future stories! And if you liked anything at all about this story, please leave a comment. I'd love to know your thoughts :)


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